


Everything, All At Once

by Semjaza



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Canon-Typical Familial Weirdness, Cunnilingus, Devil May Cry 5 (Game), Dysfunctional Relationships, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Implied Nero/Kyrie, Light Angst, Porn with Feelings, Post-Devil May Cry 5, Rough Sex, Swearing, Vaginal Sex, We Need to Talk About Vergil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:48:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25152697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semjaza/pseuds/Semjaza
Summary: Lady goes through the stages of grief at lightspeed.(Explicit DxL, with TxL and slight DxTxL)
Relationships: Dante/Lady (Devil May Cry), Dante/Lady/Trish (Devil May Cry), Lady/Trish (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 45





	Everything, All At Once

**Author's Note:**

> This got… this got out of hand. What is style? What are tenses? I just… don’t know. Still processing DMC5, haha. 
> 
> A huge thank you to Apollo for reading this over and fixing things!! Any remaining errors are my own.

“Were you that unhappy here?” Lady stood, quite alone, in the center of the Devil May Cry office. The ceiling fans rotated slowly above her head, barely disturbing the fine layer of dust that coated everything in the building. Golden afternoon sunlight slanted through the shop’s large windows, revealing just how desolate the space was without Dante in it.

No one lived here now - Trish stayed at Lady’s apartment when she was in the city. Sometimes, Lady would stop by the office for an afternoon, but she couldn’t stand the quiet for long. She’d check the phone for messages, just in case, but people who needed help almost always reached out to Morrison first, and he passed the information forward as needed. Nero worked on the road, mostly, using his van as a base. He’d stayed at the office with Trish and Lady for the first few days, when they’d still been hopeful that Dante and Vergil would change their minds and contrive a way to come back. _Come home_ , Lady’s mind corrected, and then she abruptly pushed the thought away.

Hope had dwindled slowly, and reality settled in on the fourth day. The first night they’d still been, if not happy, then at least satisfied. The Qliphoth was destroyed, and they could all drink to that. After a long day traveling back to Capulet City and the office, she’d opened a few bottles from Dante’s extensive stash of alcohol, and drank until the room spun. It hadn’t been a celebration, the lump in her throat wouldn’t allow for anything of the sort, but it’d been almost fun to watch Nico trounce Nero at the pool table, to playfully argue with Trish about jukebox selections. Anything to distract each other from the looming sense of despair that threatened to overwhelm them.

That night, all of them eventually too drunk to function, she walked Nico out to the van and put her to bed. She’d resisted Nico’s advances with admirable restraint, giving the excuse that she was in a relationship, which wasn’t a lie, not really. Then she’d gone back into the office to find Nero on the sofa with his head in his hands, and it was even easier to refuse his offer, because she knew Nero, at least, didn’t mean it. Lady found him a blanket, and a pillow, and then went and got him a glass of water, because he looked so fucking sad, and she knew she looked the same. A small, mean part of her whispered that if Nero hadn’t been so powerful, and protective of humans, and bound by his sense of duty to do the right thing, then Dante would have stayed, but she quashed the urge to blame Nero for anything. He’d gotten a bad deal too – his only blood family leaving him to… do whatever it was they were doing in Hell. And leaving Nero to take care of things on this side, defending humanity from demon-kind, all by himself, forever. No pressure, or anything.

Lady sat down in the small curve of space Nero wasn’t occupying on the sofa, leaning back against him as he lay on his side, and listened to him breathe until he fell asleep. She didn’t tousle his hair, even though she kind of wanted to, and instead turned her gaze to Trish.

Trish sat on the darkened staircase, eyes gleaming an unreal electric blue. She sipped her glass of whiskey daintily and said, “We’ll have to send the Devil Arms with Nero.”

“Not yet,” Lady whispered, instead of saying no.

“The kids are asleep.” Trish stood up and held out her hand, and Lady climbed off the sofa and went to her.

It was strange, being in Dante’s bed without him, but she didn’t say anything to Trish because she was afraid Trish would tell her to get used to it.

Forty-five minutes later she was cumming hard for the third time, because Trish’s fingers were fucking magical, and her gasps turned into sobs before she could stop herself. Trish didn’t say anything comforting, because that wasn’t really in her nature, but she wrapped her arms around Lady and held her close and stroked her hair. The three of them had been together for a long time, sometimes in pairs but sometimes all together, everything at once, years and years of it. Lady took all of those feelings and crushed them down. She covered her mouth until she was sure she wouldn’t scream, took a deep breath, and calmed herself.

Trish watched her, eyes glittering in the dark, the colour reminding Lady of the bioluminescence of deep ocean predators. Dante’s eyes did the same, sometimes, in slightly different hues. Lady put a fist in her mouth and bit down on her knuckles. She reminded herself that just because Trish thought that this was final, and immutable, didn’t mean that she had to agree. She could be hopeful. She could feel hope and grief and heartbreak and betrayal at the same time.

On the second day, she watched Nero try to figure out a way to ask her how long she and Trish and Dante had been together, saw him decide on his words and then choose not to ask. He did manage to apologize, abrupt and flustered, for making a pass at her, and she forgave him because she didn’t think he would forgive himself. Nico did not apologize, but Lady hadn’t expected her to. Instead, Nico winked and flirted with no hope of success, and then shyly showed Lady some new weapon prototypes. The four of them spent the day in and around the van, parked outside the office, with Nico demonstrating her skills. Lady ordered pizza, because she was a fucking idiot, and after they’d safely stowed all the gunpowder, they drank themselves senseless again.

That night Trish held her down and filled her up and she was pretty sure she would have woken up the neighbourhood if anyone had still lived there. She dragged her nails down Trish’s back, raising welts that healed instantly. Trish gripped her hips and fucked her with their toy and Lady clenched around her so hard she saw stars. She tangled her hands in Trish’s hair and dragged her down for kiss after kiss until she tasted her own blood in her mouth. Trish laughed at her and flipped her over, pulled her up onto hands and knees and fucked into her again. Lady dropped her face to the pillow and took it, over and over, until she couldn’t feel anything else, until she couldn’t feel anything.

On the third day, Nero picked a fight with her, half-heartedly. Lady wasn’t sure what he meant by it, and wasn’t sure she cared.

“Are you mad that Dante chose Vergil over you?” He asked, guilelessly, not knowing any of their history. And how could he? It wasn’t like Dante would have told him.

“Are you mad that they chose each other over you?” She countered, and felt bad when he flinched.

Trish watched all this and said nothing, but when Lady caught her gaze she raised an eyebrow in a way that said she disapproved of Lady being mean to the kids. And Lady sent back a glare that said, being mean would be if I fucked them when they came on to me, and also, shut up.

Trish was gentler that night, in a way that wasn’t like her at all but demonstrated that she was making an effort. Lady pushed her onto her back and slid her arms under Trish’s legs, dropping her face to Trish’s warm wet folds. She felt fingers in her hair, thighs pressing gently against her face, and resolved to make Trish scream. Trish didn’t submit well, at all, ever, and after a few minutes rolled Lady over to sit on her face. Afterwards, Lady straddled Trish’s hips and rocked against her until she came, and this time she even managed not to cry about it. 

On the fourth day, Nero and Nico decided to leave. They missed Kyrie, they said. They needed to get back home, and then back to work. Lady ordered takeout from the local diner so they’d have snacks for the road. She watched as Trish packed up the Devil Arms, too dangerous to keep without Dante here, and sent them with Nero. Agni and Rudra rumbled softly to her, Nevan hummed a goodbye. It was all Lady could do to keep her hands off Alastor, who said, _feed me your heart_ , and Lady wanted to. She really wanted to.

Nero and Nico drove away, and Lady and Trish stood in the doorway of the Devil May Cry office and watched them go. Nico waved, but when they waved back she wasn’t looking anymore. The sun set, blood-coloured clouds arching across the sky. Trish stared at the horizon, and then stared at her.

“I’ll head west, for a month or two, but then I’m going south,” Trish said, meaning that she’d hunt for remnant demons from the Qliphoth while she was still likely to find them, but that she wasn’t going out of her way to destroy every last one. The east coast was Lady’s, forever and always, her turf radiating outward from the fallen Temen-Ni-Gru, purged clean of devils and demons no matter how small. Lady scoured the landscape with the wrath of a thousand hells. Dante had helped, sometimes.

“How far south?” Lady asked, because she wasn’t going to say, don’t leave me.

Trish shrugged. She didn’t say, you should come with me, because they both knew that wouldn’t happen. “I’ll be away for a while. You can leave messages with Morrison. I’ll call once a month-” she looked at Lady’s expression and smiled softly, “every two weeks, then.”

Lady nodded, because for Trish to agree to check in even once was something. She remembered waiting for months at a time, alone with Dante, wondering where Trish was and if she’d come back to them. Dante refused to chase her, refused to worry, and Lady forced herself to do the same. Trish was lightning incarnate, and worrying about her was like worrying about a mountain, or a storm - something that was dangerous to you, but impervious to harm. 

Trish left that very evening, kissed Lady goodbye chastely, walked away without looking back. Lady sat on the steps outside the office and drank Dante’s last bottle of whiskey. She gave herself three more days, then gathered what few belongings she’d kept there, and went back to her own apartment on the other side of the city. Trish was gone two months, the first time. She returned, spent four nights wrapped around Lady, then left again. The next time she was gone three months. She came back to spend all of December and January and half of February with Lady, quiet in the darkest time of the year. Lady got used to having her around again, and missed her all the more terribly when she returned to her nomadic ways. Lady spent her springtime killing demons in city parks, and ventured further afield in the summer, out into the countryside, her payments doled out by ranchers and shepherds.

Now, she stood in the office, wondering about Dante’s happiness, a year and a day later. Wanting Dante back, and really, just Dante back even though he would surely want Vergil with him now, forever. Because Dante had always wanted Vergil with him, forever. And if Vergil out of Hell was what it took to have Dante, she’d accept it. It would be different, because it had always been her and Dante and the absence of Vergil, whether or not Trish had deigned to join them. She refused to think about how, for the longest time, it’d been her and Trish and the absence of Dante. And now, at this moment, it was just her. The absence of her loved ones sent an ache through her, pain undulled by time.

Lady blinked back her tears, annoyed with herself for still feeling things. She wiped her eyes and walked briskly around the office, heading upstairs to make sure the roof hadn’t leaked and then down to the basement to check the pipes and boiler. Finding nothing amiss, she returned to the main floor in time to watch the front door swing open. She drew a breath to greet the visitor, only to see Dante step inside and kick the door closed behind him. He took a few steps into the room and stopped when he saw Lady.

A quick glance confirmed Dante was alone. Lady thought she might be hallucinating, a late reaction to demonic exposure, or something. He was cleaner than expected, Lady noted, and then wondered why she’d thought of that. She hadn’t expected that he’d crawl home covered in filth. She hadn’t expected him to come home at all.

“Where is he?” She asked, not saying Vergil’s name lest he be summoned, almost hoping he was in Hell still, except perhaps for Dante’s sake. If this was really Dante standing here, and not a grief-inspired delusion.

Dante didn’t show any surprise at her question. He didn’t seem hurt that she hadn’t screamed with joy and jumped into his arms. He answered her calmly. “Our family home in Red Grave City. What’s left of it. Where is Trish?”

“Ushuaia, I think. Why stay in Red Grave?”

“To figure some things out. Where’s Nero?”

“Driving back from Istanbul, last check-in.”

“How is he?”

“You broke his heart, leaving like that.”

“And you?”

“I’m a big girl, I’ll get over it.”

“Lady,” he began.

“I don’t think I want to talk to you, right now. I’m not convinced you’re real, although I don’t think a doppelganger would have such a dumbass conversation before trying to kill me.”

“Lady.”

“Shut up,” she said. And then, “hands off,” when he got too close. 

He stepped back. Waited. When she didn’t relent he started to look around the office.

“Looks pretty empty.”

“No one lives here.”

“It’s cleaner than that.”

“I think Patty throws sorority parties here and then dusts everything afterwards out of guilt.”

Dante smirked at that, and Lady became more certain that he was really there, standing in front of her. Alive. Alive.

“Why come back now?”

“The Qliphoth was destroyed, the work was done. Time cycled on, and a chance came up to get back through.”

“Was Hell that boring?”

“I’m not interested in ruling it, so…”

Lady raised an eyebrow and refused to ask about Vergil. Instead, she said, “You should call Nero. And leave a message for Trish with Morrison. If you plan on staying.”

Dante walked over to the sofa and dropped into it, a bit of dust puffing into the air. He seemed to consider her words, turning them over in his head. “And if I don’t plan on it?”

“Then don’t tell them you came back, if you’re only going to leave again.” Lady couldn’t keep the growl out of her voice. Dante watched her, thoughtfully. 

“How are you doing, Lady?”

“I’m so fucking mad at you, I can’t even fucking think straight.”

Dante touched the seat beside him, but Lady shook her head angrily. She paced across the room, arms folded across her chest.

“How long has Trish been away?”

“Since mid-February. She spent the entire winter,” Lady said, a little defensively, and managed to swallow the _here, with me_ that threatened to escape her lips.

“Did you send the weapons with Nero?”

“Trish did.” Lady ignored his approving nod. “Are you done with the questions? If you cared to know what everyone’s doing, you could have stayed and found out yourself.” She knew, as she spoke, that she wasn’t being entirely fair. Maybe there really hadn’t been a way to destroy a giant demonic tree without getting trapped in the underworld, Lady didn’t know for sure. She understood that split-second decisions had to be made, and that these decisions often had unforeseeable and far-reaching consequences. It just… fucking sucked, sometimes.

“Are you crying?”

“I said fuck off with the questions, Dante.”

Dante stood up and walked towards her, slowly enough that she could step away from him if she wanted. Lady held her ground.

“Didn’t think you were that attached.”

“No Dante, I just casually fucked you for twenty years. I don’t even like you.”

She could see Dante resist a smirk at her words, and felt the gulf between them stretch open. They’d been together a long time, but that might not mean anything to someone who might live practically forever. She’d always assumed that because Dante chose to embrace his humanity, he was committed to living like a person. And she could see that he’d tried, over the years. Tried, and failed, and tried again. She’d known that he wasn’t always happy, because no one was, but she’d hoped that maybe he was happy sometimes. The signs were there, though, when Dante failed at playing human. Who needed lights when you could see in the dark? Why pay a heating bill when you didn’t feel the cold? Why bother saying goodbye to your lovers before you left them to spend an eternity slaughtering demons in the underworld? Why bother coming back?

She said the last part out loud, and didn’t care. Dante stepped into her space, touching her ever so lightly on the waist.

“I didn’t intend to stay in Hell forever, not if I could help it.” His fingers added more pressure, as though testing his own strength. He hadn’t hurt her accidentally in years, knew exactly where the lines were between gentle and intense, or pain versus injury. He could pin her down and never harm her no matter how rough they got. Now Lady thought, he’s been in the underworld killing demons for a year, he might need to figure out just how strong he is again. She brushed his hands off her waist, and he let them drop to his sides. He didn’t try to touch her again, but he didn’t back off either.

“Lady,” he started, but she waved him to silence.

“You didn’t have to go.”

“Yes, I did.”

“ _Both of you_ didn’t have to go.”

“There’s lots of evidence pointing to the fact that Vergil should not be left alone, especially in Hell.” Dante’s tone was light, but brooked no argument.

“He’s alone now, presumably.”

“Not for long.”

“So you’re not staying.”

“I am. But maybe not yet.”

“Are you worried I’ll kill him?”

Dante raised an eyebrow as if to say, _could you?_ Lady ignored him.

“So, you’re rehabilitating him first. I get it. Making sure he doesn’t kill the first poor fucker who startles him, or annoys him, or crosses his path. Don’t leave him alone with Nero, either.”

“Nero can look after himself.”

“Not against that.”

Dante didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he nodded. “Alright. Any other requests?”

“Oh, are you asking me what I want now? How about the last year of my life back?”

“Lady.”

“You keep saying my name-”

“I know you’re angry.”

“ _Angry_ does not even begin to describe what I’m feeling.”

“Should I have stayed on this side, and let the Qliphoth grow? That’s good for business and bad for the community.”

“I don’t expect you to choose me over saving humanity.”

“Of course not. You’d never forgive me. But…”

“But I expect you to try your best to do both. Nero came back looking like… I don’t know what he looked like except… you hurt him. Both of you.” Lady didn’t say, _you hurt me_. She hoped her meaning was implied, and obvious.

Dante gazed at her, and nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something flippant about Nero needing to get used to Vergil hurting him, but he didn’t. He put his hands back on Lady’s waist, gingerly.

“I had to choose quickly. I thought you’d understand, eventually. And you weren’t alone. You had Trish.”

“No one has Trish.”

Dante stopped to think about it, then nodded in agreement. “I hoped she’d stay a bit longer. Take care of you.”

Lady snorted, bitterly. She stepped back from Dante, turned and paced away. She leaned against the desk, not caring about getting dust on her skirt when her clothing was regularly drenched in blood, and folded her arms across her chest.

“Do I look like I need someone to take care of me?” She asked, in a tone that meant, _answer carefully_.

Dante followed her, back in her space like he needed her to know something. “No,” he said. “Of course not. I just… hoped that you wouldn’t be alone.”

“I wasn’t. Not always. But it’s unfair to Trish to expect her to stay in one place.”

Dante nodded again. He closed the distance between them, sliding his hands down Lady’s thighs. When she didn’t push him away, he cupped her ass, then picked her up effortlessly and set her on the desk. Lady leaned back on her hands and looked up at him.

“Confident, huh?” she asked. Dante nudged her knees apart and stepped between them.

“I don’t think we’re finished talking,” she added, eyes locked on Dante’s, feeling his hands slide under her skirt.

“Would you accept an apology?” Dante asked.

“No. You know better.”

Dante agreed, breathing against her ear. “I do.” His teeth found her earlobe for a moment, and then his mouth dropped to her throat. Lady sighed and allowed it, shifting her weight to help him as he tugged her panties down and off.

“Getting ahead of yourself, I think.” Lady stared him down, and Dante returned her gaze. He took his time caressing her thighs, waiting for her to relax a bit more before he reached between them. Lady gasped as Dante rubbed his thumb over her clit.

“What do you want?”

“Other than your time and consideration?”

Dante conceded the point. “Make-up sex, then?”

“Oh, we’re not ready for that yet,” Lady drawled, unable to keep the anger out of her voice. She stayed still as Dante unbuttoned her shirt, refusing to reach out and return the touch. Dante pulled her shirt down and off, then reached around to unclip her bra and toss it aside. He moved to kiss her on the lips, and she turned her face away.

“Alright then.” Dante sounded more hurt than he looked, and Lady felt a pang of regret. He didn’t get any rougher though, kept his touch light, pressed his face into her breasts. Lady resisted the urge to wrap her arms around him, wanting, despite herself, to hold him close to her. To feel his strength, his sheer physical presence, real and solid and right there in front of her. She wiped at her eyes, abruptly. Dante noticed, but didn’t call her on it.

“You want my mouth?” He mumbled, voice muffled against her skin. His fingers slid into her, gentle but insistent. Lady rocked a bit against him.

“Not now,” she answered. “Just fuck me.”

Dante didn’t disappoint. He leaned back long enough to open his pants, then pulled her to the edge of the desk. He paused for just a moment to rub the head of his cock into her folds, then thrust into her hard enough to rock the desk. Lady let out a yell that was more like a sob, and clutched at Dante’s shoulders. Taking Dante was like being speared by a piece of granite – he was big, and thick, and so fucking rigid she could already feel the bruises forming. She clenched hard around him and heard him curse.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her throat. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Lady lied, wanting him so badly she could hardly stand it. “Do I have to tell you twice?”

In response, Dante pulled almost all the way out, then slammed back into her. Lady yelped and lifted her hips to try to get more friction on her clit. She reached for herself but Dante grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the desk. He thrust into her again, leaving her breathless. And again. She hooked her legs behind him, leaned back, closed her eyes and just took it. She tried her best to keep quiet, but the intensity dragged the sounds out of her. She heard someone whimpering and knew it was coming from her, quiet little sobs each time Dante bottomed out inside her, filling her completely, stretching her as pleasure edged to pain and back again.

She started to struggle against Dante’s hold and was immediately released. He left her wrists to grip her ass and fuck her harder, and Lady fisted her hands into his hair because she had to hang onto something. Dante kissed her throat, dragged sharp teeth over her skin roughly enough to bruise, and Lady felt a thrill of irrational fear that he would bite her, too hard, just sink his teeth into her and tear open her flesh and then she was cumming, her body arching up against him, clenching around him, a guttural scream escaping her throat.

Dante didn’t stop, nowhere near close himself. She felt him smile against her skin, one hand leaving her waist to grope her breast, tweaking her nipple to make her flinch.

“Alright, Lady?” he asked.

“Fuck you,” she gasped, and then shrieked when he flipped her, bending her over the desk. She felt his boot nudge against her ankle, urging her to spread her legs further, and aimed a kick at his knee. He laughed and caught her hands again, pulling her forearms across the small of her back and holding her in place. “Fucking jackass,” she growled, feeling him press in close, his cock sliding slickly over her thigh. She was drenched herself, soaking wet, legs shaking. Her breath dragged out of her and she turned her face to the side, panting against the desk, getting dust in her hair.

“I said, alright, Lady?” Dante repeated, and Lady pushed back against him as hard as she could while being held in place.

“Fucking hurry up or get off me,” she swore, testing his hold on her arms. He didn’t let go this time, just tightened his grip to the brink of pain and slammed back into her. Lady shouted and knocked her head against the desk. She couldn’t get any purchase against the surface, completely at Dante’s mercy, her clit throbbing between her legs. She tried to brace with her feet but couldn’t quite reach, snarling when Dante pushed her further up on the desk. He put more of his weight on her, holding her down, fucking into her insistently.

In this position he could get even deeper, pain edging every thrust. She could hear herself get loud again, her breathing out of control, panting and gasping. She was just about to call it, to tap out and tell Dante she was done with him, thanks, when he let go of her wrists long enough to drag her upright by her hair. She sent an elbow flying towards his face, just so he’d know what she really thought of him, but found herself pinned down again almost immediately. She didn’t know why Dante had bothered until he reached around in front of her, twisting his hand so that he could shove his fingers into her and press against her clit at the same time. It was too much pressure, too much inside her slick pussy, his fingers stretching her further while his thrusts continued relentlessly. He curled his fingers and thrust again, and she screamed and bucked against his palm.

“Too much,” she groaned, and didn’t even have to explain herself. Dante adjusted his grip immediately, proof that he was still listening. He fingered her clit and continued to fuck her, and Lady thrashed out another orgasm underneath him. It pushed her well into the realm of oversensitivity, until each thrust reminded her how sore she was, and Dante’s touch on her clit was a spike of sensation she couldn’t decide if she liked anymore. She could hear herself, voice run ragged, sobbing his name despite her best efforts. She could hear him too, breathing hard, exhaling shakily against her skin, continuing to push himself inside her.

He sank his teeth into her shoulder as he came, just for a second before he could stop himself, soaking her insides with hot semen that dripped down her legs as he pulled out. He touched her shoulder, almost frantic, and she could tell by the faint sting that he’d managed to draw blood. Lady didn’t bother trying to move. She let the desk hold her up, and when it looked like she might just roll limply off it, Dante scooped her up into his arms.

She made him clean the tub before she agreed to take a bath with him.

Afterwards, they sat in the tub together, facing each other. The water was warm, and soothing to the many parts of her that ached. Lady was so sore she was almost delirious. She looked at Dante, and wanted him, and couldn’t figure out why other than maybe her body was a traitor. Dante watched her in turn, staying quiet, not a mark on him - not from Lady or Vergil or the entire fucking underworld. Lady could feel the bruises on her hips, thighs, and breasts. She knew she sported at least one hickey on her throat. The outline of Dante’s teeth were etched on her shoulder. They looked at each other, steam from the bath rising between them, for a long time. Dante looked away first.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she lied.

“Why not just say so?”

“No,” she said, again.

“Come closer?” He asked, and she stood up enough to switch positions and settle in near to him, her back pressed to his chest and his arms wrapped around her.

“Gonna be mad forever?”

“Not forever, no.”

Dante pressed a kiss to her shoulder, keeping her against him with one arm while the other reached out and caressed her thigh. Lady sighed and leaned against him, settling back as his hand slid between her legs, two fingers parting her folds and pushing inside. Lady didn’t move to stop him, instead resting her hand over his, letting herself breathe. He moved to rub her clit, and Lady surprised herself at the breathy little sigh that escaped her.

Dante took his time, touching her gently, breathing with her. He let his other hand brush damply over her nipples, and she hissed as they stiffened under his touch. She pushed back against him but he kept his touch light, well aware of just how sore she was, and that he’d caused it. He built a rhythm and Lady started to squirm, clutching at his hands.

“Dante, I-”

“Come on, then,” he said, kissing her neck.

“I… oh, fuck,” she gasped, her hips jerking involuntarily. She tossed her head back and moaned, startled by the strength of her orgasm rushing through her. Water splashed out of the tub and onto the floor. Dante stifled a chuckle against her shoulder, rubbing the tremors out of her legs.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Lady resting drowsily against Dante, enjoying the way her body moved as he breathed. And then the office door a level below them slammed open, and Trish’s stiletto heels clicked across the floor, moving decisively towards the stairs.

“Do you think I’ll have time to get out of the tub before she electrocutes you?” Lady asked. She felt Dante laugh in response as much as she heard it, and reached behind her without looking to touch his face affectionately. He nuzzled her palm, then kissed it.

“I doubt it. Do your legs even work anymore?”

“Whose fault is that?” Lady twisted in his arms to look at him, feeling the first genuine smile reach her lips in a long time. She leaned in and kissed him hard, gratified at how urgently he responded to her. He kissed her so needily that she shuffled around to straddle his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him everything that she couldn’t make herself say out loud.

When she pulled away for a moment to catch her breath, Trish was leaning against the bathroom sink, dressed in immaculate leathers, smirking wickedly. She watched the pair of them with gleaming eyes.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Lady said, by way of saying hello. She tilted her head up to accept the kiss Trish offered her, then leaned out of the way as Trish pulled Dante closer by his hair and kissed him too.

“Electricity and water is bad for Lady,” Dante added, submitting to Trish’s touch without the slightest resistance.

Trish stepped back to look at them both again, teeth worrying her lower lip. She shed her clothing with a crackle of demonic power, resting her hands on her hips thoughtfully.

“She looks like she’s forgiven you, a little bit.” Trish nodded towards Lady but addressed Dante.

“I doubt it,” Dante answered.

Trish nodded approvingly. She rubbed her fingers together and Lady felt static all over her body.

“Trish,” she said, warningly, at the same time Dante said, “Wait.”

Trish laughed and grinned at them, showing just the slightest bit of sharpness in her teeth. “Get out of there and get dried off.” Her gaze flicked to Lady again. “I’ll put new sheets on the bed.” She strode out of the bathroom, swaying her hips. Dante and Lady stared after her.

“We’re in trouble,” Dante said.

“What do you mean, we? It’s you. You are in trouble. I’m going to sit and watch.” Lady set her hands on Dante’s shoulders and pushed herself up. Before she could step out of the tub Dante wrapped his arms around her hips. He pulled her close, supporting her weight, and pressed his face between her thighs. His tongue found her clit and massaged it gently. Lady sighed and twined her fingers into his hair. “Yeah, yeah, you have a lot of making up to do. But if Trish comes back and we’re still in this tub, she might actually fry us.”

Dante looked up at her. “I think I can get you off again before Trish can put a fitted sheet on that bed.”

Lady gazed into his eyes, beginning to feel happier than she had in a long time. “Good luck with that,” she said.

**Author's Note:**

> Fitted sheets are the fucking devil. Anyway, thanks for reading! Please leave a comment if you liked it. Feedback is always appreciated. :)


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